I Didn't Even Get to Dance
by All-Day-Anime
Summary: Sherlock should be very happy. Why wasn't he happy? The Sign of Three SPOILERS Rated T for drug use and language. No pairing, just Sherlock and John in the aftermath of John's wedding.


**_Author's Note: So, The Sign of Three was epic, simply epic. More fanfiction on screen, but had so many emotions. It was hilarious, epic, amazing, brilliant, wonderful, clever, and sad. It's very sad. I just wanted to express what I thought of this whole ordeal as I love Sherlock so much. I believe Janine was the bridesmaid Sherlock was paired with. If not, oh well._**

I Didn't Even Get to Dance

A Sherlock Fanfiction

The Sign of Three Extended Ending-ish Type of Thing

SPOILER WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NOT WATCHED THE SIGN OF THREE, PLEASE EITHER BACK THE FUCK OUT AND WATCH IT/WAIT TO SEE IT OR ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.

DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU.

Sherlock exited the building in no great haste, slightly biting the inside of his cheek. The early May night was cold as he left the room warmed by the body heat of almost a hundred people. Had it been the worst day of his life? Not at all. He enjoyed seeing his friend happily married to the beautiful and wonderful Mary Mor-_wait, no, Watson. She's his wife. She's Mrs. John Watson, or Mary Watson._

And she was pregnant, or could possibly be.

The reception had been beautiful and lovely, just as the three of them had planned. Sherlock's speech went well and nothing ended in a total catastrophe, like it could've.

Sherlock Holmes should feel happy, even just a bit.

But, that wasn't happening. All he wanted was for his friend-_best friend_-to be happy and to have a good day.

He wanted Mary to be happy because she was deserving of John Watson, and he of her-_she's the one who helped John after Sherlock's _death.

He wanted Molly to be happy, even with an idiot of a boyfriend-_meat dagger. Why couldn't the stupid fuck keep his mouth shut?_

He wanted Janine (I think that's her name) the bridesmaid to be happy as he helped her progress through the afternoon and evening without stepping towards a man who would eventually cheat and leave her like past boyfriends-_she could've been a good replacement, if needed._

Sherlock just wanted everyone to be happy.

Sherlock was just so unhappy that he couldn't even celebrate his deduction about John and Mary having a baby. He wasn't terrible with children, as he learned with his time with a certain little ring bearer who continuously hugged and praised him for being an amazing detective who solved countless cases and many murders.

He wrote a fucking speech for the wedding and it turned out wonderfully.

He composed a song for John and Mary's first dance and preformed it.

Sherlock should be very happy.

Why wasn't he happy?

Pulling his collar up, Sherlock glanced at the ever endless night sky and sighed.

_I love to dance._

_ I didn't even get to dance._

Perhaps it was just the fact that he was so alone after it all.

John had Mary and the baby.

Molly had Tom-_the idiot Tom_.

Janine the bridesmaid had found happiness with a geek.

He kicked Irene-_The Woman_-from his head earlier that day and did not wish to think of her then.

Could he ever be anything but alone?

Eventually, after a long cab ride, Sherlock made his way up the stairs of 221B and sat in his chair.

_Rough night?_

"Shut up. You wouldn't understand, John. It was your wedding."

_You're right. I'm not the one who left early._

"I can't do this."

_Don't touch that needle, Sherlock. Don't touch it._

"I'm sorry John. I just…can't think about this right now." He made his way to the bookshelf, reaching behind the thick binding filled with pages and latched onto two things; a cylinder and a syringe.

_You don't have to be alone._

"Too late John, I've always been alone." He began to fill the syringe with a substance that would make his pain dull, even just a bit.

_You could be happier, Sherlock. Come back to the reception. There's still time for drinks and conversation left._

He positioned the syringe like he had years ago. "You don't know it John, but I told Janine I love to dance. This has been so ever since I was young. I didn't even get to dance tonight." And with that, the needle entered his skin, injecting the drug he had once taken so willingly. Once it had been for entertainment, now to ease his loneliness.

_I love to dance._

_ I didn't even get to dance._

He remembered how John hugged Sherlock when he gave his speech.

How everyone had cried while he had given his speech.

How Molly kept trying to keep Tom from being his stupid self.

How he and Janine had bonded over his deductions of men.

How he and John and Mary had saved a life that night.

How he told Janine he loved to dance, and even did a pirouette for her.

How they had sent the photographer off in an arrest.

How John and Mary danced to an original composition and performance from Sherlock.

How Molly had watched him as he played the violin for the first dance.

How he had noticed the signs of Mary's pregnancy.

How he had been left in the middle of dance floor, alone, with no one.

How only Molly looked his way as he left.

But all of that faded away as he allowed the drugs to take over for the first time in such a long while.

The bliss was soothing as the mental image and voice of John receded to the back of his mind for a different time.

**_Author's Note: Happy Birthday (January 6th) to the wonderful and amazing Sherlock Holmes. Without him, we wouldn't look ar crime scenes like we do now. We wouldn't have all of these amazing actors playing him or amazing stories. I love him and I'm sure all of you do too._**


End file.
